So where we last left off was yesterday mid-morning. From that point on I pretty much ate all day like a crazy woman, and then got changed into my dress for the funeral.
Oh wait, one second before that I did this on Instagram.
Because seriously that is one of the best quotes I have EVER, EVER read. So true and so amazing. And then I changed into my dress for the funeral. By that time it was hot and I was tired and alas, left work a few minutes early to make it to my mom’s to carpool to the funeral. Can we talk about funerals for a second. They are generally speaking awful… why is that? Shouldn’t they be fun, or a celebration of life? I would like mine to be a fun party to celebrate the kick-ass life I led. Of course this means I need to live a kick-ass life but that really is the plan I am working on right now. Let it be known publically that if I die tomorrow I want a giant party honoring my life. Oh and a run… make them all run. HA HA, okay maybe not a run. But a party for sure.
This particular funeral was inside a small country church. With NO A/C on a very hot day with a bunch of people packed in it. Up a very long and twisty windy road where I realized upon traveling to that I did not drink enough water throughout the day and I felt completely dehydrated which meant light-headed which meant nauseous in the car. Yes, I get motion sick far too easily. It’s my tummy flaw. So I was already feeling the signs of it all and then you cram us into this tiny building where we sit to roast. And then it’s a big catholic ordeal so its lots of stand up, sit down. Stand up, sit down. I think I might have been perceived as rude but I sat in the back of the church and was incredibly disinterested because mostly I was trying to not pass out. Plus I am not going to lie the entire thing was all a formality.
Let me explain. This was my grandma’s funeral. This was my mom’s mom. I adore my mom. That is not secret or surprise. When my grandpa died 2 months ago it was hard. I loved my grandpa. My mom adored her dad. We all had a very good relationship. It was really sad. My grandma was not a nice lady. The entire time I was growing up I don’t recall her ever being nice or loving. And all the stories I ever heard about my mom growing up in regards to her mother were bad as well. How my grandma definitely had favorites amongst her 8 children and my mom was definitely not one of them. It is hard to actively mourn for someone you thought wasn’t that nice. Pretty much your entire life. I was not that per say for my grandma but instead for my mom and her brothers and sisters. This certainly was not as emotional overall of a service as my Grandpa’s. The thing is, the actual service or church crap was pretty terrible. It goes like this: here is a reading of the lord. Here is a song, everyone open up a book and try to sing along to some babble that doesn’t mean anything to you, here is another reading of the lord, another song, another reading, another song. It seemed to go on forever. None of it having any real reference to my grandma.
Eventually we did get to a eulogy of her life and I honestly didn’t know who the hell they were talking about. I know you are not supposed to say anything but lovely things during a service and I get that and that’s cool but it’s like the woman they were describing is not the stories I’ve heard my whole life. There were stories about big epic meals my grandma cooked. How she loved to bake and cook. No less than 5 or 6 references to different foods she loved to cook and eat. I can honestly say that in my entire life I have never heard a story about a big giant family meal that happened. And I hang out a lot with my mom and aunts. I was like, okay, that’s cool. And then there were so many references to essentially her life being all about food. How if you wanted to make her happy bring her Kentucky Fried Chicken. I kind of shook my head. And then something about her favorite thing to do was to go out to Chinese dinner. I was like, wow. Why are there a million references to eating in this eulogy? It was disturbing honestly. During my Grandpa’s entire eulogy there was not a single reference of food.
And I literally thought, holy shit, why on earth are they talking about her entire life as a giant menu or meal? No wonder she was grossly overweight as are a lot of her children. They were doomed from the start and it trickles down to the next generation. And it suddenly hit me, I have been fighting this genetic and learned behavior my entire life. I am fighting hard against what is clearly a very difficult and losing battle for most everyone. Food clearly is the sub context of my entire extended family. This is not an issue for Chris and his family. He did not grow up with every family gathering being about food or with food being the reward or treat for any sort of life accomplishment or depressed moment for that matter. There is no wonder our relationships with food are so different. He has and has always had a very healthy relationship with food where he has never used it as anything other than fuel for his body, and occasionally eating something because it tastes good but I am certain he’s never binge ate in his life. And then there is me, who has to fight tooth and nail against it. I see part of the reasons why in one simple eulogy.
It disturbed me to my core to be honest. And it was right there in that moment where I thought, holy shit, I want my life to be about so much more than food. I want my eulogy to read something to the effect of here was one bad-ass, kick-ass, strong independent female who wasn’t afraid to live her life. She loved to run, and be outside and travel. She ran marathons, half marathons until she was old and gray. Not and I paraphrase quote the eulogy, “due to health restrains (i.e., she was too fat) in her later life she wasn’t able to get around or go outside much” I want my eulogy to say she remained active and healthy and ran races until she died. These are lessons that life has taught me. I want my eulogy to talk of all the amazing adventures I had in life. All the places I went, the things I saw, the life I lived and was not afraid to do. I know in my heart there are a million adventures still out there waiting for me. Things I haven’t even dreamed of yet. I know aside from running a marathon that while I can’t quite think of it yet that there is undoubtable even cooler things in my future. I love myself and my life and my health not because it makes me look better, but because it makes me live an amazing life. It gives me the opportunities to not be afraid to live the way I want. And that right there is the reason I do any and all of this. It is far beyond vanity at this point in my life. It’s about winning at life. And leaving behind the most kick-ass eulogy possible. End of rant.
After the service where I somehow did manage to not pass out we got in the car and drove to the cometary to bury her and then back to the church for a gathering in the hot basement. Let me tell you for a second I had a mental moment where I had to fight with all my might to remain in control. What I mean is this. The entire spread was cookie after glorious cookie. Lots of delicious varieties including my favorite frosted sugar cookies. I might have almost hypervenalated when I saw them. My brain said oh shit, I’m in trouble here. Next to the cookies were varies slices of different kinds of pie. OMG. Control. Control. I tried to breathe. Do you want one? Someone asked me. Yes, that is the problem my brain said. And not just one, I want every single god-damned cookie on that spread. It didn’t help that I was starving. “NO NO NO” I told myself. No way. Not doing it. Can’t. Just can’t. I scooped up some chunks of watermelon that were present, thank God for them. And got a cup of coffee. I was going to remain in control of this situation. By this point it was late in the day and we were tired and had to get home so we honestly didn’t stay long.
Every second I sat in that church basement was a total testament to mind over matter. Do NOT eat the cookies. Don’t look at the cookies. Don’t watch all the people eating cookies. Or pie. Or the baked muffin pastries people were downing. You don’t need them. You are better than that. But I did it. I survived. Yes, I could have ate a cookie, I am fully aware. But would it really have been just 1? I don’t know the answer to that. And I felt better not having touched them. I’m working way too hard on my goals right now for that. I don’t need it. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. How sluggish my body gets as a result, so no, no thank you. I shall pass. And that was that my friends. We got in the car and drove away and I didn’t. Not even a little bit.
We stopped for Subway on the way home and I had real food and felt very proud of myself as a result. Some days it’s easier than others. As a result I woke up this morning feeling very happy and confident and in control. I can do this. All of this. In 49 days, 7 weeks to the day I shall be boarding a plane for Maui and I am in total control. I don’t believe in between now and then I won’t fuck up and binge again I am sure I will at some point. I won’t be entirely perfect, that’s impossible and honestly I wouldn’t want to be. I deserve treats. Speaking of that I did have a cookie at home last night. A single cookie. One that was controlled and regulated in my environment. And it was delicious and I didn’t feel guilt at all. Oatmeal raisin cookie. I’m not trying to deny myself treats or cookies. Just the giant crazy spread of them that leads to cookie after cookie. So yes, this morning I felt great about myself and that was the real reward and take away from yesterday. Live my God Damned life to the fullest so that I have a eulogy I’d be proud of.
And then this entire morning was spent driving in the car. Yup all morning up to Portland and around and back down. But I did stop at the Coach store because I have been wanting a new pair of clear sunglasses for Maui and these little babies are my reward for my awesome-ness as of late. Okay, I don’t need an excuse but seriously I love them.
And that leads me to right here, right now. And I’m happy and glad it’s Friday afternoon and the weekend is almost upon me. I have half marathon number 40 tomorrow. Can you believe it will be number 40? Seriously, I still remember what the first one felt like and where we are at 40. I feel like that is kind of a big deal. Not as big of a deal as say 50 or running a full marathon. But still 40 is pretty impressive actually. Yeah, I’ve run 40 half marathons. That sounds like a grand start to an epic eulogy already. Alas it is supposed to be like record breaking hot this weekend and I am not thrilled about an 8 AM half start tomorrow but oh well, I run slow, who cares. At the end of it is the knowledge that I finished 40 of these bad boys to date. I don’t have any major plans for Sunday just yet, but I know I want to be active and healthy. I can’t sit around all day and do nothing, that is just not in me. I am sure I will come up with something of value!
Have an amazingly epic, eulogy inspiring kind of weekend. Okay, let’s just settle for staying cool and having peace and love in your heart.